Madmen and Cobalt Flames
by JAM3.14
Summary: A strange murder in San Francisco. An even stranger warning on the wall. And a demon that's out for blood.
1. A Warning on the Wall

**_Warning: There will be death, swearing, and slight body horror in this and the following chapters. Proceed at your own risk._**

 ** _Disclaimer: Any characters or objects from Gravity Falls and/or Supernatural do not belong to me, and I am in no way making any profit with this story._ **

* * *

"Mabel! He's coming!" The tattered old knapsack was dragged out of the closet.

"But-but what about Mom and Dad?" In went a fleece and a crumpled wad of five dollar bills.

Dipper hurriedly grabbed a knife from his chest of drawers and threw it into his backpack. "He's not after them, Mabel! He's after us, and we have to go. _Now._ "

Two pairs of socks. A change of underwear for each of them. A road map of the U.S. Mabel set her jaw. "I'm not just going to _leave_ them."

Dipper stuffed a worn leather pouch into the backpack before turning and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Mabel, we have to run! He's gonna -" There was a crash below them. Dipper paled. "He-he's _here_."

He grabbed another pen knife from the shelf and tossed it to Mabel wordlessly. She caught it by the handle, fumbling with it a bit as she flipped it open.

An echoing voice drifted up the stairs, dripping with gleeful malice. "Oh, _children..."_

Mabel went white. "Oh, God," she whispered. Dipper had already made it halfway out the window, but she was rooted to the spot.

Dipper paused and set his backpack down on the fire escape. "Mabel! Come on!" He whispered. Mabel shook her head, trying not to hyperventilate. Then she had an idea. She unfroze and grabbed a sharpie from under her bed. She could panic later.

"J-Just a sec, bro-bro."

The stairs creaked behind her. "Tell me I'm getting warmer... You two have been just _begging_ to be turned into corpses for ages."

Dipper's eyes were saucers, but he didn't run. "Mabel!" His voice came out squeaky and panicked.

"Just a sec! Go, I'll catch up!" Mabel continued scrawling on the wall as fast as she could. She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"I'm not leaving you!"

She could hear him in the hallway now, padding across the carpet, steps slow and deliberate. The lamp in the corner of the room flickered with each footfall, electricity arcing across the wires with a clinical regularity. _Just a few more seconds... And...  
_

"Done!" Mabel threw the sharpie to the ground.

"Great! Now, come on!" Dipper grabbed the edge of the ladder and started to lower it down. Too late.

Behind them, the door to their room creaked open. An eerie glow lit up the room, reflecting off the whites of Dipper's eyes, turning them an unearthly green. She felt a tingle on the back of her neck.

"M-Mabel! Behind you!" Dipper shouted, his voice cracking.

She whipped around. The light from his eyes threw most of his face into shadow, obscured his features, but she didn't double-check to see who it was. She didn't need to. The slitted pupils of his awful eyes, that snakelike grin — those were enough for her. As he took another step towards them, her hands stopped shaking. Her eyes narrowed involuntarily. She could panic later. Right now, she had to move.

"Eat iron, butt-face!" She threw the penknife. It wasn't nearly the same as her old grappling hook — and she'd never had the best aim to begin with — but it was good enough. Hitting him square in the arm, it made a sharp hiss as it made contact, flooding the room with the smell of burnt turkey. But the man with the awful eyes simply looked down and laughed.

He yanked it out and twirled it between his fingers. "Iron blade. Somehow, I expected more from you. I mean, seriously? Did you really think that a little thing like iron would work on -" He looked up and stopped.

The window was open, the white curtains flapping in a nonexistent breeze, lit up by the otherworldly glow. The fire escape was empty. The twins were gone.

The man's face darkened and his eyes flared yellow. A blue flame curled around his clenched fist. "I said I would kill two humans named 'Pines' today." He stepped out into the hallway. "But I'm not too picky about which ones."

There was a sizzling sound, and a thick cloud of smoke drifted into the twins' bedroom. There were two simultaneous screams. And then there was silence. The man was gone. And two burnt and blackened corpses lay where the twins' parents used to be.

* * *

Sam looked up from his newspaper. "Dean, get this: 'San Francisco couple slaughtered in their beds.'"

Dean chewed his pancake. He didn't look up. "And?"

"It could be a case, Dean. Our kind of case, I mean."

"Or it could just be a regular murder. Those happen too, you know."

"We've run with less before."

Dean put his fork down. "All I'm saying is we should probably be focusing on stopping Lucifer. You know, keeping the seals from breaking? Stopping the apocalypse? Ring any bells?"

"And I'm not saying we shouldn't." Sam said hastily. He set his newspaper down on the checkered tablecloth. "But we have no idea which seals are going to be broken next. So, it's a little difficult to be actively trying to _stop_ the apocalypse when we don't have anything to work with. So, I thought - since we've got nothing - it couldn't hurt to look into this."

Dean paused, then shrugged and wiped his mouth. "Fine." Then he fixed Sam with a glare. "But if we get word that another seal's going down, we go stop it. No questions asked. I'm all for saving people, but I'm not just gonna sit back and _watch_ as the freaking _apocalypse_ goes down."

Sam hid a smile and stood up. He glanced at the keys in Dean's hand. "Can I drive?"

Dean snorted. "In your dreams."

* * *

The forensic pathologist raised an eyebrow at Sam's badge. "FBI, huh? I figured they'd get you guys involved. This was a weird one."

"How so?"

The man shot him a look and pulled the body out of the freezer. "Didn't you read my report?"

Sam tensed, but replied smoothly. "I know the basics, but I'd still like to hear the details. From the source, I mean."

The man huffed and twitched back the plastic. "See for yourself."

The corpse was a woman, though Sam probably wouldn't have known it if he hadn't asked to see her specifically. Her flesh had charred and blackened beyond all recognition, her lips shriveled and scorched to reveal burnt-black gums and brittle teeth. And from the hollowness beneath her eyelids, Sam could guess that her eyeballs had melted from the heat of the flames.

"We've got no idea where the fire started, and any fingerprints that were there to begin with have pretty much burned away. There's gonna be an autopsy later, but don't get your hopes up. They're basically charcoal at this point."

Sam leaned in closer and lifted up her eyelid. It crumbled away in his fingers, leaving behind an empty socket. He swallowed and made a face.

The man nodded. "Nasty, right? Poor schmuck's husband looks the same."

"Jesus." Sam muttered. Then, a bit louder, he asked, "Any idea who did it? Anybody who'd maybe hold a grudge against the Pines family?"

The man shrugged and zipped the body bag back up. "Hell if I know. It's a big city, I never met 'em. You're the fed, you figure it out." Then he seemed to reconsider. He lowered his voice. "But between us? My money's on the kids."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "The kids? Why?"

"'Cause the doors were locked from the inside, and these two didn't die in a freaking house fire. They were found like this in their _beds_. And when we found them, their kids had already skipped town."

Now they were getting somewhere. "Any idea where they'd go?"

"Dunno. Up and vanished. Afraid of getting caught if you ask me."

"Huh."

"Yeah. It's really screwed up." The man paused, then pushed the woman's corpse back into the freezer. He brushed off his hands. "Do you need to see the husband?"

"No." Sam straightened up. "I think I have enough for now. Thank you for your time." He turned to go, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "If you find anything strange in the autopsy - anything at all, call me."

"Will do." The man turned away. Sam left the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he stepped through the door.

"Hey, Dean? I just saw the bodies. This is definitely our kind of case."

* * *

At the couple's house, staring at the untidy scrawl of black marker across the cheerful yellow wallpaper of the kids' bedroom, Sam had to admit that it was weird. Even weirder than usual. "What do you think it means?"

"No idea. It's gotta be the kids though." Dean stepped back from the wall.

"Dude, you didn't see the bodies. No kid could do that."

Dean snorted. "Um... demons? Possessed much?"

"Yeah, but seriously? 'Beware of Bill?' What kind of demon leaves a warning?" Sam checked himself. "Besides Ruby, I mean."

"Oh, you just _had_ to bring _Ruby_ into this, didn't you?" Dean muttered. He peered a little closer at the wall and groaned. "Tell me that's not an Illuminati symbol in a top hat."

"Maybe they were trying to warn their parents." Sam continued. "Like a warning against a demon?"

"A demon named Bill?" Dean crouched down and picked a pen knife off the floor. He sniffed it, then sighed. "Course if I'm gonna be wrong, best if it's in the next breath." He flipped the knife around and handed it to Sam, handle first. "It _reeks_."

"Sulfur?"

"Looked like an iron blade too." Dean stood up. "Whoever these kids are, they had at least half an idea of what they were up against."

"You think they got away?" Sam brought the blade up to his nose, then immediately moved it away again.

"Judging from the lack of torched tweens in the paper, I can say that's a safe bet." Dean said. He started walking towards the door. When Sam didn't follow, he glanced over his shoulder. "You coming?"

Sam gazed at the knife thoughtfully. "I dunno, Dean. Maybe we should stick around. Make sure the demon doesn't show again."

Dean turned. Pointing at the wall, he said, "It's out for blood, Sam. And those two kids knew how to fight it. Who's to say they weren't the target?" He folded his arms. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this right."

"Dean, who's to say they were? They could've just been in the wrong place at the wrong time." Sam folded the knife back into itself, ignoring the crackling sound of the dried blood. He shoved it in his pocket. "Maybe one of us should stay here, just to be safe."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Sam met his eyes. "There's a reason there's two of us, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Dean rolled his eyes, then headed for the door again. He stopped by the edge of the frame, and turned, fixing Sam with a pointed glare. "But if it turns out the demon _is_ here..."

Sam snorted. "Dude, I know the basics. I'll let you know."

"Okay." Dean turned towards the door again, then looked back over his shoulder reluctantly.

Sam cut him off before he could say anything. "I'm not a kid, Dean. I know what I'm doing. "

Dean nodded grudgingly and walked out the door to the twins' bedroom, ducking under the police tape as he went. A few seconds later, the distant sound of the Impala's engine filled the room. Sam turned back to the crudely drawn triangle on the wall and its hastily written warning. He nodded to himself thoughtfully and muttered. "Guess it's time to call in the big guns."

* * *

Four hundred miles away, Mabel took another bite of her banana. "You didn't really plan this far ahead, did you?"

Dipper traced the map with a finger, never taking his eyes off it. "We've gotten this far, haven't we?"

"Yeah. If by 'this far' you actually mean 'stowed away on a banana truck.'"

"At least you got a banana." Dipper hid his face behind the map, his fingers clenching the paper to the point of ripping it slightly along the edges.

Mabel winced and crawled over to him, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm _kidding."_ She plopped down next to him, smiling warmly as she took another bite before tossing the peel aside. "But next time? Let's take the bus."

The truck slowed to a stop. Dipper tensed and looked up from his map. "I thought this truck was heading all the way to Rosenberg. We should have another two hours at _least_."

A door at the front of the truck opened. There were a couple heavy footsteps on the asphalt outside, then the door shut again with a slam. Mabel met Dipper's eyes. _"Hide."_ He mouthed, crouching behind a large crate. Unsurprisingly, it was labeled 'Bananas.'

Mabel ran towards him, and no sooner had she rolled behind the crate, the back of the truck opened. They both squinted at the sudden brightness. Mabel could see the truck driver silhouetted against the setting sun. He was a large man and his baseball cap was on backwards. He also appeared to have a meticulously waxed handlebar mustache, but Mabel honestly couldn't be sure with the sun in her eyes.

"I know you're in here." He said, his voice gruff. "I've been hearing you giggling since Ashland. Free ride's over. Get out."

Dipper put his hand over Mabel's mouth. Mabel resisted the urge to lick it.

The driver made a funny noise in the back of his throat. "Look. I've been more than generous. I let you come this far. There's a bus station about a mile away."

Dipper met her eyes and put a finger to his lips. She nodded.

The man started to sound irritated. "Look, either get out now, or I'll make you pay for the bananas you ate. And don't tell me you didn't 'cause there's about five more peels on the floor than when I left."

Mabel chanced a peek over the top of the box and bit back a groan. She'd left the peels all over the floor of the truck, in plain sight of the door. Beside her, Dipper closed his eyes and let out an exasperated huff of air. Then he stood up.

"Okay, you got us. Um... we'll get out of your hair now." He grabbed Mabel by the hand and pulled her up.

The truck driver stared at them. "Cripes. You - You're just a couple kids. Are you two runaways?"

Dipper blinked. "Uh..."

Mabel jumped in. "No! Of course not! We're part of a traveling family circus but we got separated from the Ringmaster, and the Bearded Lady told us to change the lion's litter box but we forgot, and _Spider-man says_ 'With great power comes great responsibility,' so-"

The man rubbed his face with his palms. "Okay, okay! Sorry I asked!" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, one hand still covering his eyes, "Bus station's that way." He removed his hand and glared at them. "Now, get the hell off my truck."

"Okay!" Mabel said cheerfully, and she hopped out, dragging Dipper behind her. Then they both ran off down the road.

Behind them, the truck driver blinked, then shook his head and walked back to the front of the truck. He revved the engine, then the banana truck sped back down the highway in the opposite direction, leaving a thick cloud of white exhaust fumes in its wake.

Mabel spun on her heel and waved. "Bye, Mr. Truck Driver! I'll be sure to send your regards to the Bearded Lady!" She turned to Dipper with a smug grin on her face. "And that, my dear Dipper, is how you get rid of someone."

Dipper didn't move, then his face broke into a grin and he tackled her in a hug. "Mabel, that was amazing!"

Mabel flashed him a full braces smile. "Well of course it was. Everything I do is amazing."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "And... the moment's gone." He looked down at his shirt. "Ew! You got banana on me!" He tried wiping it off on her sweater, but Mabel jerked away at the last second.

She snorted. "Jerk." She looked in the direction the truck driver had pointed in, shielding her eyes. All she could see was the highway. "So... bus station?"

Dipper furrowed his brow and pulled out his map. "I don't know, Mabel."

"But it's my turn to pick the transportation! Air conditioning, Dipper!"

Dipper stuck his nose deeper into the map. "Well, I dunno about you, but I _don't_ wanna die on this trip. Metal box with only one way out? Maybe not the best idea."

She squinted at him. "Um... Banana truck?"

He finally looked up, folding the map into a tiny square and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. He looked her in the eye. "Don't you think a bus going to Gravity Falls would be the first place Bill would check?"

Mabel sighed, sitting down on the narrow strip of dirt at the edge of the highway. "I guess you're right." Then her face brightened. "Oh, wait! Yay! Hitchhiking!"

Dipper set the backpack down on the ground. "I'll take first... what do you call it anyway? Car-hopping? Thumb-sticking-out-ing?"

"They should really invent a word for that." Mabel stuck her legs out straight in front of her and clacked her toes together, swirls of dust swirling outward from her mud-caked tennis shoes.

He hesitated for a second, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Anyway, I'll go do... whatever that's called." Dipper walked out a few feet in front of her and stuck his thumb out, one hand still jammed into the pocket of his vest.

Mabel stared at her toes for a second, squinting to keep the dust out of her eyes. Then she looked up. "Hey, Dipper?"

"Yeah?" A car whooshed past them, completely ignoring Dipper's thumb. "Oh, _come on!"_

"Do you think Mom and Dad are okay?"

Dipper didn't say anything for a moment. Another car blazed past them, but he took no notice. Finally, "Yeah, I mean... Bill's after _us,_ right? I'm sure they're fine, Mabel. They're probably sitting in our room trying to figure out what the heck your weird wall message means."

Mabel clacked her toes together again, watching the dust clouds swirl lazily around her feet. "Yeah. You're probably right."

"Of course I am."

Dipper looked back out at the road and stuck his thumb out a little further as a cloud of dust appeared at the top of the next hill. As it approached them, it slowed slightly and managed to come to a screeching halt next to them, startling up yet another cloud of dust. Coughing, they both watched as the settling dust revealed a muddy blue pickup truck with a bug-smeared windshield. The driver's side window slowly rolled down to the three quarter point, where it squeaked and suddenly gave out, and a balding guy in his late fifties peered out at them. "You kids lost?" The cigarette butt in his teeth glowed red-orange and a puff of smoke escaped his mouth, making Dipper cough again.

Dipper cleared his throat and spoke up. "No, sir. We know exactly where we are. We were actually kinda hoping for a ride."

The man smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his thin lips revealing a gold tooth that shined coldly in the light of the setting sun. "Where to?"

Mabel stood up and grabbed the fraying backpack. "Gravity Falls, Oregon. Can you get us there?"

"Yes I can, little missy. In fact, I was just heading up there myself."

As Mabel climbed into the backseat of the truck, she tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread in her stomach. She was being ridiculous. Their parents were fine. And as soon as she and Dipper got to Gravity Falls, everything could go back to normal. But try as she might, she couldn't dismiss the feeling that soon, something was going to go incredibly, irreversibly wrong.

 **A/N: Aaaannd that's a wrap for this chapter. Much thanks goes to my lovely beta _Human Customs Still Elude Me,_ as without her, this fic wouldn't have turned out half as good. Reviews are loved, constructive criticism is always welcome, but unwarranted or unhelpful flames will be given to my Labrador as a chew toy. **


	2. The Lies in Our Ears

Chapter 2

The Lies in Our Ears

As the wind whistled through the trees outside, the digital clock on Dipper's beside table quickly blinked the time. Besides the occasional street lamp, it was pitch black outside. Heavy clouds veiled the stars, masking the sky in deep swirls of gray, and the moon wouldn't even be rising until later that night. It was the perfect night for ghosts.

Any other night, the ominous atmosphere outside would've had both twins tense and alert. But inside the apartment it was warm and cozy; the mysteries and dangers of the outside world were the farthest from their minds than they had been in months. Both of them were supposed to have been in bed an hour ago but it was Friday night and they both were in that warm place between feeling exhausted and not being quite ready for bed yet. Mabel's flashlight lit up the space beneath her bed as she stuck purple stickers to the underside of her mattress, and Dipper's phone still illuminated his face as he lay half asleep on top of his covers, only one of the earbuds still lodged in his ear.

"Psst, Dipper," Mabel said. "What do you think? Cupcakes? I'm thinking cupcakes!" She held up a sheet of pink and purple stickers from her scrapbook.

Dipper cracked open one of his eyes and tapped something on his phone, glancing down at her stickers for barely half a second. "I don't think Mom's gonna go for it either way. Remember last time?"

Mabel huffed, a strand of hair fluttering in front of her face. Of _course_ she remembered last time. They'd spent three hours cleaning all the stickers off the car. "This won't be like that."

"Of course it won't, Mabel." Dipper glanced down at her again for a second, sticking the other earbud into his ear. "But wait — wasn't that what you said _that_ time too?" He smirked at her from the bed then went back to his phone, sleepiness evidently pushed back to the edges of his focus.

Mabel stuck her tongue out at him, then looked back at her stickers. She shook her head, and pulled out another sheet from her sticker collection. "Nah. I think dolphins are better in this situation."

The lull in their conversation only lasted a few minutes before Dipper's sheets rustled sharply as he sat bolt upright.

Mabel glanced behind her. "What's wrong, bro-bro?"

A sharp crease formed between his eyebrows. "Do you remember Grunkle Ford calling us earlier?"

Mabel rolled out from under her bed and propped her head up on her hands. "No. Why?"

Dipper swallowed as he stared at his phone. "I've got a voicemail from him." He glanced down at her, his eyes wide. "Didn't he say he wouldn't call us unless it were an emergency?"

Mabel stood up slowly, her stickers hanging half-forgotten in one hand. "Play it," she said firmly.

Dipper looked back at his phone then, after a second's hesitation, yanked out his headphones and pressed the play button.

 _"Listen, kids. I don't have much time."_ Grunkle Ford's voice was staticky and slightly panicked, but it was undoubtedly him. _"He's back. I have no idea how he survived the memory gun but he did, and he's here. And he's looking for you two."_

Dipper's knuckles had gone white as his hands clenched the cell phone. Mabel felt something sharp digging into her palm, so she looked down at her hand: She had crumpled her sticker sheet into a ball and a metallic dolphin sticker had lodged itself in the skin of her hand. She slowly released her fist, then glanced back to Dipper. He was staring at the phone as though his life depended on it.

Ford took a shaky breath, then continued. _"Dipper, you need to get the unicorn hair I gave you last summer. That will keep him from tracking you. Do not stay in your house. Bill knows where you live. It'll only be a matter of time before he finds you._

 _"And if he finds you, he will kill you."_

There was a long pause, and a quiet thumping started up in the background. _"I'll buy you as much time as I can,"_ Ford said quietly, then he checked himself and his voice shifted to a falsely cheerful tone. _"I'll meet you at the Mystery Shack. We'll figure out how to beat him from there."_ Then there was a loud crash, and the line went dead.

Mabel glanced towards Dipper, her eyes wide. "What are we going to do?" She whispered.

Dipper's face was blank and he leapt out of bed, shutting his phone off. "What we always do." He said shortly.

"But Dip… If it's really Bill… If he's actually alive..."

Dipper swallowed, and turned his back to her. "We'll do what we always do." He repeated. "We've beaten him before, we can do it again."

After a moment's hesitation he added, "We're the Mystery Twins, right?"

Mabel opened her mouth to say something more. Then her eyes went wide. She tapped Dipper on the shoulder and silently pointed out the window. All along the street, one after another, the street lights were flickering out.

Dipper's eyes went wide. He threw open the door of their closet. "Mabel! He's coming!"

Mabel sat bolt upright in the car, her heart beating through her chest. She glanced around wildly, then relaxed somewhat: It was just a dream. Granted, it had happened. But it wasn't happening now. She pulled her knees to her chest, and her heart rate slowed somewhat. She decided a trip to sweater-ville wasn't necessary.

 _Just a nightmare._

Dipper glanced over to her in concern. " _You okay?"_ He mouthed.

She gave him a quick nod, and hugged her knees closer.

The man in the driver's seat cleared his throat, glancing back at them. "So… forgot to ask. Where in Gravity Falls do you two want to be dropped off?"

Mabel opened her mouth, but Dipper beat her to it. "Just by the welcome sign, thanks."

 _Right,_ she remembered. _'Trust no one.'_

The thought brought a wry smile to the back of her mind; she'd thought they'd moved past all that. But now that he was back, it made a twisted sort of sense. She tuned back into the conversation.

"Aw, it's no trouble." The man was saying, grinning back at them, canines sharp in a clearly plastic smile. His gold tooth caught the light of the setting sun. "What's a little favor between friends?" Something was off about his voice, she realized. It was too bright, too friendly.

Mabel felt her shoulders tense. She glanced towards Dipper. He was sitting up straight in his chair, his fingers slowly reaching for their backpack. "No really," he said slowly. "By the welcome sign is fine."

The man's smile did not reach his eyes, and his gold tooth glimmered again. This was not good. Mabel started reaching towards her seat belt.

"Greasy's Diner's good. There's Hoo-Ha Owl's. The Mystery Shack." The man's grin grew wider. "I've heard that place in particular has… sentimental value for you two."

 _Not good._ "Actually, I think you can let us out here." Mabel's voice sounded unnaturally high in her ears. Dipper was fumbling with the zipper on the backpack, probably trying to find the knife.

"Oh, Mabel. You really think I'd let you two slip away?" The man's eyes flicked black. "The boss has been looking for you."

He jerked the steering wheel to the left, and the car swerved into oncoming traffic. Mabel screamed once, then her face hit the window, and everything went black.

* * *

The crash itself only lasted a few seconds but, to Dipper, it felt like an eternity. Logically, he knew that it was his brain taking in as much information as possible, trying to give him any opportunity to escape. But in all honesty, it just made the agonizing dread in his gut last that much longer.

There was no screech of tires as the demon jerked the wheel. Just a dull thunk as Mabel's head hit the window, and a low chuckle from the front seat as the car swerved into oncoming traffic. The real noise started when other cars started swerving away from the pickup truck, half a dozen smaller wrecks and crashes blocking half the interstate.

Miraculously, the truck didn't get T-boned by a car going the other direction, instead opting to crumple around a lone tree at the edge of the interstate. A low-hanging bough flew through the windshield like it was made of toilet paper, the tip crushing the release trigger of Dipper's seatbelt and barely missing his stomach.

And then it was over.

Dipper blinked slowly, still dazed. But his eyes shot open when he caught sight of Mabel. A small spiderweb of cracks expanded from where her head had hit the window and the force of the impact had caused half of it to shatter completely. Shards of glass glittered in her hair and all over her sweater, a green purple bruise bigger than Dipper's fist already swelling along one side of her face. She wasn't moving.

But the slight rise and fall of her chest meant she was still alive. She would be okay. _She had to be okay._

The demon twisted itself around in its seat, black eyes flickering across Dipper's face. A thin trickle of blood leaked out of one corner of its mouth, and the demon probed the area with its tongue. A cracked smile spread across its face.

"Y'know," it said, reaching down to unbuckle its seat belt. "I was never told to track you and your brat sister down. I was patrolling the highway, sure. Making sure you didn't show your filthy little faces. But I never actually expected you two to _show."_

Dipper stayed silent, and his gaze strayed to the half-opened knapsack. It had slid down by Mabel's feet during the crash. And with his busted seat belt, it was just out of his reach. And so was the iron knife hidden inside.

"I mean, they told me you were _smart."_ The demon continued, the smile on its face widening into a smug smirk. "Guess the higher-ups overestimated you."

Mabel shifted slightly, her eyelids opening a hair. Dipper glared pointedly at the backpack, then turned his attention back to the demon. Out of the corner of his eye, Mabel gave a half nod.

 _Keep it talking._

"Yeah… uh… So you found us when it wasn't even part of your assignment?" Dipper was talking a bit too fast, but at least the demon's attention was back on him now.

The demon's smirk grew. "Exactly. The big man's _sure_ to promote me now. I mean, I know I wasn't one of his followers the first time around but…"

"The first time around?" Dipper kept his eyes on the demon, not daring to watch as Mabel's fingers slowly twitching back the zipper of the backpack. _Just a few more seconds._

The demon's smirk faded into a vicious scowl. "Yeah, but I'm on the right ship this time," it muttered. "Screw Lilith and her damn apocalypse. She couldn't make it work last time, and it won't work this—" The demon paused as the zipper squeaked in Mabel's hand. It cocked its head at her and both twins froze. "Like I said. I'm on the right ship this time. Just gotta prove it to the boss man."

There was a rustle of fabric as the demon whipped a knife out of its jacket and slit Mabel's throat in one smooth concise motion. Blood spurted out in a spray of red, and the demon held his palm to her neck as it started dribbling down her sweater. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the bloody gash at her throat, then fluttered down to her sides.

The demon shrugged. "The boss never said he wanted _both_ of you alive." It cupped its hand close to its chest, swirling it around with a single finger, muttering phrases in Latin.

But Dipper could only stare, wide eyed, as Mabel's hands fell weakly to her sides and her eyes became unfocused. He blinked hard, his chin trembling and his hands curled into fists. Mabel had dropped the iron pen knife on the seat beside her, well within his reach.

His eyes narrowed as they fell upon the muttering demon in the front seat. He knew exactly what he was going to do with it.

* * *

"Mabel, please wake up."

They were a couple hundred yards deep into the forest on the side of the road. The pine needles underfoot were spotted with blood, and the patch of ground right underneath them was sticky with syrupy red. In the distance, the police sirens were getting louder.

"Please, Mabel. Please, just…" Dipper let out a half-strangled sob, and pulled his knees into his chest. "Just wake up," he whispered.

Mabel stared at the trees overhead, unseeingly. The green bruise from the crash was on the other side of her face and, if Dipper half squinted, he could almost pretend that she was still —

But she hadn't blinked in the last five minutes. Not since Dipper had managed to drag her from the crumpled ruins of the truck. And the red gash in her throat was impossible to ignore.

Nobody could've survived that.

Dipper swallowed and stared at his knees, pointedly avoiding the crusty redness along his hands. "I-I _killed_ that guy, Mabel." He shut his eyes, and tried to keep the tears from coming.

"I'm a murderer," he whispered. "I'm a murderer, and my sister is dead."

"A-And I _know_ he was possessed. I know that." He squeezed his eyes shut. "But there was still a person inside there. And I killed him. I really did kill him." He couldn't bring himself to care about the police cars barely six hundred feet away. Instead, he muffled a sob and buried his head against his knees. "Mabel… what am I going to do?"

He could still hear the sizzling sound the knife had made when he'd jammed it in that man's neck. Could still see the bloodied grin the dead man — oh why, oh why wasn't he dead? — had given him before that black smoke — demon, that was the demon — had whooshed out of his mouth into the sky. Could still hear the dying gurgles of the man _he'd_ killed. It was all playing on repeat through his mind. Over and over and over and —.

Dipper breathed into his knees and opened his eyes, staring at the slightly blurred fabric of his jeans. There was a streak of dried blood on the thigh of his pants. He couldn't remember who it had belonged to.

Teeth streaked with red, a smile too wide for the face it belonged to, the blood flowing freely from the knife still stuck in his neck — no, don't think about that. He took another deep breath and clenched his teeth, forcing his eyes to stay open.

He kept talking, his eyes still fixed on the stain of blood on his pants. "I'm scared, Mabel. I'm sure you'd laugh and give me a stupid sticker or something but I can't do this alone, I can't do it. That's why you have to wake up. B-Because you c-can't be…" His pants started blurring again, but he didn't wipe the tears away. "You can't be dead," he whispered.

He shuffled over to her body — _no it's not a body, it's_ Mabel — and knelt beside her. He blinked furiously and his hands curled into fists. "I won't _let_ you be dead."

Grabbing the backpack, Dipper unzipped a side flap and pulled out a piece of paper, the one crumpled into a tight ball around a box of matches. He uncurled the paper carefully, pulling a few matches from the depths of the almost empty box. "I found this in Grunkle Ford's journal, under the 'emergencies' section," he said, staring at the bundle of matches in his fist. His fingers tightened around it. "And I don't _care_ if it's stupid, or deadly, or any of that. It's the only chance I've got."

He dragged all six of them along the zipper of his jacket, watching as the flames flared into existence, and hurriedly stuck them in a circle around Mabel.

"It's not candles," he muttered, "But it'll have to work."

Then he cleared his throat and shakily read from the crumpled paper clutched in his hand. "Triangulum, entangulum. Meteforis dominus ventium. Meteforis venetisarium!"

The matches flared high, yellow flames glowing neon, and Dipper fell to his knees. His entire body felt like it was burning, but his eyes. Oh God, his eyes actually were. Blue flames danced along his vision, staining the empty spaces a dark, murky gray. He felt his mouth move with words he couldn't control, but he couldn't focus on that. Then the flames vanished completely, leaving him in a world stained entirely with black fog.

"Hey Presto! The magic words!" A yellow glow filled the area, emanating from just above the circle of matches and cutting through the fog in front of his eyes. "I was wondering when you were gonna call me, Pine Tree."

Dipper jumped to his feet and scanned the woods around him, blinking his eyes furiously to clear the remainder of the spots from his vision. It didn't work. The area just above the matches remained a darkened blotch.

He cleared his throat, and forced the words out: "Bill, I need your help."

"Oh, Pine Tree, I've heard all about your little problem." Bill's metallic voice danced around him in circles, feet crunching in the blood soaked needles. "And you went and did a fancy summoning. I mean, if I knew all I had to do to get your attention was kill your sister, I would've had one of my minions do it ages ago! Then I could've just skipped murdering your parents and—"

Dipper's eyes widened and his hand dropped to the still bloody knife in his pocket. "You _what?_ You killed my _parents?"_

"Aw, don't be that way! What's a little homicide between friends?"

"Mabel is _dead,_ Bill. Don't test me right now."

"Exactly," Bill said. "You're desperate. I hold all the cards. Not you. I̴͜ ̵c̨̡͟aĺl̷ ͘t̨̀h̵̶e͞ ͝s͞h͘҉o͜ts͜҉.̛͘͜" He leaned in close and Dipper blinked hard again, trying to catch a glimpse of the demon's vessel. He caught the barest trace of a grin, of a smile too wide for any human to manage, and Bill cocked his head, wreathing his face in shadows again. "Understood?"

Dipper felt his chin start to tremble and he quickly clenched his teeth. He took a deep breath and looked down at his shoes, waiting until he knew he could produce the right words. "I need you to bring Mabel back," he said softly.

Bill's voice swooped down to right next to him. "Sorry? I didn't catch that."

Dipper didn't look up. "Bring her back to life. A-And I don't want her to be a zombie or a monster or something. I want you to bring her back, and I want you to take us to a hospital far away from here."

He could hear Bill grinning, a sickly popping sound of skin stretching too far. "And in return?"

Dipper swallowed and shut his eyes, wincing as the face of the man he'd killed swam into view. He forced his fingers to release the knife in his pocket. "I'll do whatever you want," he whispered. Then he looked up at the demon in front of him. "Just bring her back. Please."

The grin stretched wider and wider — too wide, that's way too wide — and Bill stuck out a hand for Dipper to shake. Blue flames flared to life around it, cutting through the last of the black fog in Dipper's eyes.

Dipper grabbed it, then looked up at the demon's face. Slitted yellow eyes bored into his, and that godawful Joker grin stretched wider, tearing the skin at the edges of the mouth a little further, a little bit too far.

A five o'clock shadow flecked with blood and front teeth a little too big, crowding all the others to the sides. That nose, a permanent blotchy red from allergies that never quite left, that he and Mabel had made fun of so many times. Behind the blood, behind that twisted, red-stained smile —

No. _Nononononono…_ It couldn't be him.

Dipper screamed, and the forest disappeared around them. The blood-spattered pine needles underfoot faded away as the random scatterings of sticks and leaves shifted into an organized checkerboard of off-white linoleum tiles. Rough expanses of bark and tree trunks smoothed themselves out just before the sterile calm of a waiting room faded into view.

A woman near the front desk shrieked and Mabel started coughing, spitting out chunks of blood onto smooth linoleum tiles, and — oh God — it was the loveliest sound Dipper had ever heard in his entire life. And then the tears came and he buried his face in the blood-soaked fabric of her sweater, trying to ignore the disembodied, metallic voice of Grunkle Stan as it whispered into his ear: "I'll be back in an hour to collect my payment. _Don't_ make me wait."

 **Hey! Sorry for the long wait. I had some technical difficulties with my beta (most of which were my fault) so it took a little longer than I expected. Speaking of my beta, thanks so much to the awesome _WordsAblaze,_ for beta-ing this chapter! She really helped improve the flow of the dialogue and description, especially in the first few scenes. So, much thanks to her.  
**

 **Next chapter will be a while, but I promise it will be posted eventually. I just have a difficult time motivating myself occasionally. Thanks so much to everyone who left reviews on the last chapter, and if you liked this one, leave a comment! It really makes my day every time I see somebody's commented on my work and it motivates me to keep writing.  
**

 **I feel like I'm using too many exclamation points in my author's notes lately. And just in my life in general. Anyways, until next time!**

 **-Jam**


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